Fatal Justice (Jack Lamburt #1)(30)

He buried his face between her legs and she reacted by tightening her thighs against his ears. She moaned out loud. “Oh God, yes!” I’ve got you now.

She writhed and moaned, taking short, quick breaths. “Oh God. You’re so good.” And stupid as shit.

She lowered her left leg to the floor and rested it lightly on his right forearm. “Pinch my nipples… Please.” And seal your fate.

He slid his right arm from under her leg and up her stomach. He grabbed a handful of her breast and squeezed hard. “Yes, that’s it.” She bucked against him, luring him deeper into her web. One arm in, one arm out.

She moaned, begging him to continue. “God, that feels so good.” Almost as good as killing you is going to feel.

The first wave of her fake orgasm barreled over the horizon and she bucked and moaned between gritted teeth. “Just a little more.” And you’re as good as dead.

She slid her right calf up higher on his back until her ankle was resting on the back of his right shoulder. She lifted her left leg, placed the back of her knee across the top of her right ankle, and rested her left calf on his back.

Few more seconds…

She continued to buck and shake in her fake orgasm, and moaned loud to distract him as she inched her upper body to the right to get a better angle. She slid her left calf off of his back and quickly folded her leg down over her right ankle, and locked in the triangle choke.

Poor Sam got caught with one arm in, one arm out, a definite no-no in jiu jitsu. She brought her thighs together so tight that he gasped and his whole body froze. His face still buried against her, he tried to raise his head, but the triangle choke was locked in so deep and strong that he couldn’t move.

He raised his eyes to look up at her. She smirked down at him, a calm blackness replacing the feigned pleasure in her eyes.

“Oh, honey,” she whispered. “Please don’t stop now.” She squeezed a little tighter, then released a little pressure, playing with him like a shark tossing a baby seal in the air.

With his free hand he fumbled around on the floor, grabbed his Derringer, and pointed it at her face.

She laughed at him. She’d known the second she’d seen him point the little pistol at her that it was a two-shot .22-caliber Derringer. She even owned three of them herself, one with a very ladylike pink grip. After firing twice at London, the gun was empty. Sam pulled the trigger.

“It’s empty, you moron.” She chuckled and gave in to her sadistic side. “You shouldn’t have shot your load on a dog.”

She knew from locking in thousands of triangle chokes on her fellow jiujitsu students in over a decade of practice, that it was over. She saw the same realization in his eyes, right before they rolled up into his forehead, and she smiled.

She heard the front door crash open.





32





I suspected something was wrong when Debbie replied to my texts using one only word answers. She had two traits that mildly annoyed me: she was fiery as heck, and she could be a talker. Sometimes, especially after a few glasses of wine and before I satisfied her, she could go on about things long after the point was made. Good egg that I am, I tolerated it. It wasn’t like she was an axe murderer or anything, and as annoying as her few flaws were, her good traits way outnumbered them.

One of my “bad” traits, according to her, was that I was paranoid. I tended to think a better word was “careful,” but she wasn’t buying that, so I’d agreed that I’d work on my “paranoia.”

Just the same, tonight I was going to be a little careful, so I pulled my truck into one of the forest access trails that was close to my driveway. In the name of stealth, I intended to go it on foot from here.

I pulled my pickup around a bend in the trail so that it wouldn’t be visible from the road. In my business you always covered your tracks, even in the darkness of night, if you wanted to stay alive. And out of jail. Just being “careful”…I killed the engine, stepped out onto the pine needles and soft closed the door.

The forest always smelled so good to me. Pine and other green scents, mixed with a hint of dampness. I inhaled and soaked in the pleasant smell of nature that hadn’t changed at all since I was a kid. Good memories.

I took out my phone and turned the ringer off. My eyes had adjusted to the moonlight, and I could see the trail well enough without the need for my iPhone flashlight, so I stuffed it back in my pocket.

I trotted towards the road, my footsteps silent on the bed of soft pine needles, my breathing quiet. I heard nothing other than a soft breeze filtering through the treetops. A good sign.

I reached the gravel road that borders my acreage in a few minutes, and stepped up and over the small rock wall that surrounded my property. The ground is so rocky here that the first thing the Dutch settlers did when they arrived in the late 1700s was clear the fields of them so they could grow food. Some of the rocks were stacked up to form two-foot-thick basement or foundation walls for the new homes the settlers were building.

The others were used to create a stone wall perimeter fence that was around two feet high and a foot and a half wide at the base. My two hundred plus acres had been in my family for over a century, and with so many vacations and summer breaks spent in Eminence, I knew these stone walls like the back of my hand.

Most of our acreage was wooded, and our house was located in a big clearing that was set back from the road about two hundred feet. The driveway was gravel with a slight curve, but I wouldn’t be using that tonight.